Well, here it is, my first modern Downton AU. For the longest time, I've thought that Elsa and Anna from Frozen were a lot like Violet and Isobel, which got me thinking what it would be like if these two characters saw the movie together. Put 'em together and whattaya got? This little one-shot. For those of you singing "Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo," just keep right on warbling.
"Only you would think of taking me to see a cartoon at the cinema."
"You liked the film, admit it."
"Isobel, I am too old for a Disney film."
"Rubbish. Nobody is too old for a Disney film. I know I'm not."
"Of course you're not. You live in a state of perpetual adolescence."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"I must have said it wrong."
Violet Grantham grunted as her best friend bumped her with her hip. It was an established fact that no one could ever accuse her, a member of one of Britain's oldest families, of being childish, and no one ever tried to bring out the inner child in her. That in itself was a good thing, because as far as Violet was concerned, her inner child had grown up a long time ago. But ever since she met Isobel Crawley, her granddaughter's mother-in-law, it seemed as though the woman were bound and determined to drag Violet's inner child kicking and screaming out of her. Card games, church parties, and round after round of Scrabble and Bananagrams until they had both gained a few new vocabulary words to shout at each other in the next argument. Which appeared to be happening right now, come to think of it, and over a Disney film, of all things.
It wasn't that Violet had never seen a Disney film; for pity's sake, she wasn't completely heartless, contrary to popular belief. She was simply from the era that one would call Classic Disney, having grown up with the animated features supervised by Walt Disney himself: Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, Pinocchio, Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Lady and the Tramp, and more. But it seemed as though after the great man passed on, the films lost a great deal of the magic that made them wonderful. Oh, the films from the "Disney Renaissance" of the 90s were good, but the only one that Violet held to the standard of true Disney was Beauty and the Beast. No other Disney film since had brought out the inner child that stubbornly stayed frozen within her, no matter how many Isobel tried to make her watch.
But this time... this time, as much as Violet hated to admit it, Isobel had, as the Americans said, hit a home run. She had gone into the cinema to view Frozen at Isobel's insistence, praying that the 90 minutes of the film would soon be over. The prayers started in the car park when Isobel cursed another driver for stealing a parking space, climbed the hill when her friend proceeded to clean out the concession counter, and then hurtled down the precipice with the force of a speeding locomotive once they were inside the darkened cinema... along with a host of screaming children and gaggling teenagers. Just keep calm, Violet, she had told herself. Be a good girl. Don't let them know how you really feel. Put on a show for everyone.
Then the lights dimmed and the film began... and Violet, for the first time in a very long time, found herself enthralled. Although she still believed that the new style of computer animation didn't hold a candle to hand-drawn animation, she had to admit that this film was absolutely dazzling. Dazzling visually and emotionally, as it told a well-crafted story and featured the best characters she had seen since Sleeping Beauty. Most astonishingly of all, though, was that Violet found herself identifying with one of the two main protagonists - who eerily echoed many of Violet's earlier thoughts.
"You. Liked. It. I know you did."
Violet rolled her eyes. If Isobel wanted to flog the horse, then so be it. "Name one reason why you think I should have liked it."
"That beady eye and sharp wit of yours, for one. I would have thought you would be sitting there comparing the characters to our family and others who have passed through over the years."
"Such as?"
"Such as the Duke of Weselton bearing a strong resemblance to Mary's former fiance, Richard Carlisle. If anyone ever came from a place called Weaseltown, it's Carlisle for sure and certain."
One corner of Violet's mouth turned up as she considered this. Now that she thought about it, it was very true. That sniveling little weasel of a duke was Richard Carlisle's animated equivalent. "You're right, although I ruddy well can't imagine Carlisle wearing a toupee that looked as though it were made out of cat hair. I wouldn't have been surprised if his bum went up every time he smoothed that wig."
Isobel burst into giggles. "Oh, bless you, no! Carlisle would've sooner performed the dance of the swords stark naked than wear a wig like that." She flicked away a tear of mirth as they continued walking. "How about you?"
"I'd sooner wear the wig than dance naked, thank you very much."
"Smart-aleck. I meant, did you notice any characters that reminded you of anyone?"
Violet shifted slightly, feeling a little uncomfortable about mentioning her thoughts on the movie's queen. "Well... I did think the prince was just a little like a certain snake that wound his way around our family years ago."
"Ah. Thomas Barrow of the Southern Isles, I wager?"
"Twenty pounds to you. I won't elaborate, considering that that comparison is self-explanatory. And then, of course, there's Kristoff the mountain man."
"Were you thinking Robert?"
Violet snorted. "My son is a man's man, but he is not a mountain man. For heaven's sake, Robert gets winded whenever he jogs in place for ten seconds. No, I was thinking Richard Clarkson."
Isobel's eyebrows went up and the slight flush that colored her cheeks was not lost on Violet. "Richard? You were thinking of him? Why? He's a doctor, Vi. Hardly a rugged ice harvester."
"Oh, I know that. But you must admit, he is a bit of a fixer-upper, as that song went."
"Why? Because he walks clumpy and talks grumpy?"
Violet's mouth lifted in another half-smile. "Well, that's just icing on the cake." Isobel gave her a smack on the shoulder. "Because he acts all standoffish around you when what he really wants to do is ask you out."
"He wants to ask me out? You must be joking."
"I am not a joker, Isobel, not about things like that. Just because I've been widowed for nearly twenty years does not mean I've forgotten what it feels like to be asked out by a man, to be admired and loved by a man."
Isobel's conker-colored eyes were wider than shillings. "Richard... loves me?"
At last, Violet snickered. "And now I know which character reminds me of you. You sound exactly like Princess Anna. Act like her, too, come to think of it."
Now it was Isobel's turn to laugh. "Me, like Anna? Would you care to elaborate?"
"When am I not? You're forever walking on sunshine. You are optimistic to the point of being overly perky. And let's face it, darling, you are not exactly a swan among women."
Isobel stopped them both where they were, her eyes narrowing as she planted her hands on her hips. "You're either saying I'm clumsy or an ugly duckling, aren't you?" she asked, brushing a strand of windswept chestnut hair out of her face.
"Well, dear, that's open for interpretation, now, isn't it?" Violet offered her a blithe smile.
Isobel could have thought up half a dozen comebacks in response to that. Rather, she returned the sweet grin and simply said, "Fine, I'll accept clumsy. Considering that you're an ice queen, I'd say it's terribly fair."
It was ironic that she mentioned ice, for Violet froze to the pavement the instant those words reached her ears. "Me, an ice queen? Don't be ridiculous," she said, although she knew bloody well that Isobel was not being ridiculous and where this conversation was going.
"I'm not being ridiculous, Violet. You are being ridiculous, because I know you know what I'm about to say. Moreover, I know that you agree with me."
"And what exactly is it that I supposedly agree with?"
Isobel's eyes glittered and her lips turned upward. "That you are exactly like Queen Elsa."
Violet fought the overwhelming urge to close her eyes, but that would mean admitting defeat. Sod her, but Isobel had nailed it. She had noticed just how much Elsa, the Snow Queen of Arendelle, was like her, not in looks but in personality. For years, Violet had fought an internal storm of her own, one that the rules of British society dictated must stay hidden no matter what. She had become quite a master at keeping her deepest fears buried and her strongest emotions under lock and key, thus presenting a stoic, chilly front to all who knew her. Only her family knew of the fragile, yet warm, heart that beat beneath the raiment of the ice queen of the Grantham family.
And, apparently, so did Isobel.
"How?"
Isobel smiled. "Let's just say that I thought 'Let It Go' sounded very much like a friend of mine, who needs to let go of more than she realizes." She held up a hand when Violet opened her mouth to argue. "Vi, it's true. You can't let generations of blue blood dictate your life. The ice queen is not you. You're a woman with a beautiful heart and capable of great love. You're just so afraid of hurting others and yourself that you put on such a cold front." Isobel took her friend's hand and gave it a squeeze. "Don't be so terrified, Vi. Be yourself."
Oh, bugger, Violet thought, feeling the ice around her heart begin to melt. "I wish I actually did have ice powers. That way I could freeze you when I'm tired of hearing you witter on," she teased. "Though I have a feeling your heart would thaw you every time."
"I would do that, you know," Isobel said, all seriousness. "If you were in danger, I'd sacrifice for you."
Violet shot her friend a cynical expression. "You're going to hug me now, aren't you?"
Isobel bowed her head. "No." She then looked up and broke into her widest, brightest smile. "Yes!" She threw her arms around Violet's neck and yanked her into a bear hug, not caring in the slightest that passersby were giving them funny looks. "I love you, my sister," she said, tightening her embrace.
Feeling like an absolute nancy, Violet put her arms around Isobel and hugged her back, blinking furiously to hide the tears that had gathered in her eyes. My sister. Her own elder sister had died many years ago, and Violet had never thought she would find a friend that would qualify as such. But Isobel was her sister, regardless of their not being related by blood. The marriage of Isobel's son and Violet's granddaughter had made them relatives, arguments had, ironically, made them friends... and time and love had made them sisters. "I love you too," Violet said, silently thanking God for this unexpected gift. Thank You for her. And for thawing my heart.
As though the Almighty were responding to her prayer, snow began to fall from the thick clouds gathering in the night sky over London. Not just any little flurry of snow, though - enormous, gorgeous white snowflakes that sparkled in the light from the street lamps and promised to turn the good old city into a winter wonderland.
Isobel looked up when the first snowflake landed on her cheek and grinned at Violet, who glared back at her. "Don't look at me," she warned. "That's His doing, not mine."
Isobel chuckled. "Whatever you say. I just have one question for you."
"Isobel..." Violet pointed a finger at her friend. "Don't even say it."
"Do you want to build a snowman?"
Isobel was not at all surprised when Violet shoved her winter hat down over her eyes and bundled her off down the street, through the dancing, swirling snow. A frozen heart thawed and an ice queen melted, heart's sisters whose journey had only just begun.
